The Fourth Realm 2: Prophecy of Old
by The Great and Powerful Keski
Summary: A continuation of the Fourth Realm in which a prophecy made eons ago by a god will finally come to fruition, new alliances are formed and old ones become clear, and the relationship between Luseik and his Queen progresses ever further.
1. Chapter 1: The Prophecy

The Fourth Realm 2:

--Prophecy of Old--

A fanfic taking place in the Realms of the Blood, created by

Anne Bishop whom I worship and pay tribute to every day.

Just kidding. Or so you think.

(Written by the Great and Powerful Keski,

spell checked by Microsoft Works Word Processor)

---

Chapter I

The Prophecy

(It's an extended episode--The Season Premiere!)

---

_In the beginning_

Lorn shook his head slowly, his black hair shifting in a rippling fashion. "No. Versiver, the gods will not approve. You're meddling with things that shouldn't be meddled with."

Versiver snorted. He raised his hand in a diminutive gesture. "Lorn, of all my brothers, you are the only one who objects to this. You are the only one who objects to my actions. You are the only one who doesn't believe that we are working towards a greater good."

"That's because there will be repercussions, Versiver."

Akarui raised his voice. "I don't believe we are doing anything terribly wrong. There aren't any rules set in stone, after all, so how can we be violating them?"

"Rules don't have to be set in stone to be effective," Oebr murmured.

"There are no rules, and we aren't doing anything wrong," Versiver snapped.

"You'll see," Lorn said quietly. "You'll see."

---

Versiver laughed hysterically as he held the chalice above his head. "This!" he shouted over the raising gale around the four brothers. "This is it! This is the power we've been waiting for! All the years of work, of failure, of ridicule--this is our just reward! The power of the gods is within our reach!" He put the chalice to his lips and drank deep of the red liquid inside. He lowered the chalice and handed it to Oebr, who took a gulp and passed it to Akarui. Akarui stared at it, took a drink, and gave it to Lorn.

Lorn held the chalice for a long time before tentatively putting it to his lips and taking a small drink.

All four of them convulsed at the same time. The chalice fell to the ground and shattered, the red liquid spreading out on the ground.

And the room, the entire world, all of it faded.

---

_The Darkness_

_Foolish meddling mortal men. You are awakened._

The four awoke simultaneously. Where were they? It was dark. Very dark. There was no ground, but they weren't exactly floating--they were simply there. They couldn't see each other, but they all felt the strange sensation of a great weight. Versiver breathed heavily and clutched at his sides.

_The world has been shattered because of what you have done. Your mortal bodies cannot house the power you attempted to attain. It was unleashed… and the whole of existence shall suffer the consequences._

"No," Lorn murmured. "I told you. I told you all. And now… now this."

_The ancient gods are no more. I am the only one left… And with the last of my power I will see to it that you four do not go unpunished for your crimes._

"What?" Oebr exclaimed. "No! That isn't fair!"

_What is fair, human? How can you contemplate such concepts as 'fair' when you attempt to attain the power of those such as me? Humans are not meant to be gods. That is why they are humans and not gods. Now hear your fate!_

Versiver hissed in pain and doubled over in the darkness, still clutching his sides.

_Because of the power released through your actions, a great power parallel to the world has been born… This shadow… This Darkness… will leak its power into the world. According to Dios, who has already faded into the Darkness, an entirely new race of humans with countless abilities will be born as well._

Lorn, Akarui, and Oebr, all at once went into convulsions of pain and cried out as their bodies began to change shape.

_Lorn, Akarui, Oebr--for your inability to object to what you knew was wrong, you shall forever retain the bodies of the dragons you so venerate. Lorn, you shall aid this strange new race of people by giving them the tools with which they will access the power of the Darkness._

The three were full-fledged dragons now. As the voice stopped speaking, Lorn vanished before he could respond.

_Versiver--for your transgressions, you shall suffer the pain of transformation but keep the general form of your body. However, you shall be denied usage of the power of this new Darkness._

Versiver screamed and blood splattered as the skin on his back tore open with an audible _rrrrip!_ and two gargantuan dragon's wings emerged from inside of his body.

And _you shall all live on forever until the appointed time._

"The appointed time?" Akarui said, almost unable to talk with his rapidly changing throat and mouth.

_Only one of the three may prosper._

No one said anything.

_Akarui--Give her the garnet._

Akarui started to speak, but vanished in midsentence.

_Oebr--Be careful with the boy, but be wary of the girl._

Oebr, too, started to inquire, but vanished.

_Versiver--Luseik's Queen will be your downfall._

Versiver didn't bother attempting to speak, but nothing happened. He struggled to get to his feet, and faced the shadows boldly.

"I will not have a downfall," he hissed. "You said yourself, the ancient gods are no more. Your power is spent, Morgenstern--yes, I recognize you, as I could recognize any of you pathetic so-called gods--and you can do no more to punish my brothers and I."

_You believe yourself to be more powerful than you truly are. That arrogance will only help Luseik's Queen in her task of destroying you, utterly and completely._

"So you say, Morgenstern. We shall see what becomes of your little prophecy."

---

_Today_

_Dhemlan Dachrea_

Versiver stared at his hands.

Luseik's Queen, his downfall.

Perhaps. But if he killed her, she wouldn't be much of a Queen, now, would she?

Let the old dead gods have their meaningless "appointed time". It would come soon enough. Hell, Akarui was already dead, if Kennesra was to be believed. And if Luseik didn't appreciate Versiver's killing the Ebon-Gray Jeweled little tart, well, he'd live long enough to get over it, being a draghan, after all.

The problem was Anna herself. Draghans were spread out all over Dachrea, but what were the odds of one getting into Terreille? And she was a draghan. She had to be, didn't she? How else could she have that power?

And what tormented Versiver was this--how did she work the way she did? She had the power of nullification, and it was almost ridiculously strong, and yet she could still use Craft with the best of them. Versiver was the original draghan, of course, and his gift was absolute--but in addition, he had virtually no Craft. His Black Jewels weren't good for anything but psychic abilities like the threads.

Damn it! This was all so confusing! What the Hell was Anna that she could do all this?

And the other with them… Althemen. He was a subordinate of that worm Menteur, Versiver was sure of it. He'd also have to be disposed of. Alnevar, maybe not. Alnevar still had amnesia. He knew only what Althemen had told him.

Now Keski wasn't a threat and wouldn't be until he'd grown into a full-grown gejk. But Satiyen, the wehr. The wolf-man. He'd been abandoned by his own Queen; he couldn't be too trustworthy. Versiver had sent him to begin with, but now he wondered if that had been a mistake.

Luseik, out of all of them, was both useful and safe to keep as a tool. He wouldn't turn against his own father but he still had enough power to be a threat to Versiver's enemies.

And with enough coercion--and lying, of course--he might even be convinced to dispose of the Ebon-Gray Jeweled Queen. But Versiver wasn't getting his hopes up.

---

_Everdusk_

Oebr pondered quietly in his castle in Everdusk. Akarui… dead. He knew it for certain. He didn't know how he knew. But he knew.

_Be careful of the boy…_

He'd forgotten those words from Morgenstern, so long ago. And look what had happened because of it. But the second part…

_…but be wary of the girl._

What would that come to? Would Yachesa betray him? It wouldn't be terribly surprising. The girl was mentally unstable. Not insane, no, certainly not in the Twisted Kingdom. Just a bit unstable. In fact, she nearly _had_ fallen into the Twisted Kingdom after the disaster with her brother.

Oebr had learned a painful lesson that night. He had been following in his brother's meddling footsteps, hadn't he? Making that spell. It all came down to power--back then, back before all of this, they had been trying to attain power. And Yachesa's brother had been irreparably damaged by Oebr's own attempt at giving him more power than he was meant to have.

But how much power had they truly unleashed? Enough power the shatter the world into three Realms, close enough to reach through Gates, but too far to reach in any conventional method. Enough to bring the Dark Realm, Hell, closer than ever before. Enough, according to Morgenstern, to _create_ something as unbelievably huge in scope, something so enormous the mind could barely contemplate it, into existence--The Darkness. If Morgenstern was to be believed, they had created the Darkness.

And they had destroyed all of the gods. Five gods, _gods,_ and all of the power which that entailed. Morgenstern, God of the Sun. Luna, Goddess of the moon. Vhit, God of Life. Mortika, Goddess of Death. And Dios, the High Lord. Dios, the god of everything that could be imagined, and they had destroyed him.

The prophecy of Morgenstern was finally coming to fruition. What would happen? Who could predict the coming days…?

---

_Akarui's Fortress_

Akarui lay motionless on the cold stone floor. Anna was sobbing into her hands. Luseik had dropped the dagger and was staring at his hands in silent horror.

Althemen watched the proceedings without apparent emotion. He alone had a secret that he knew he must soon tell the others; something Akarui had imparted via a psychic thread in his last moments.

Satiyen and Keski had bowed their heads out of respect. Alnevar was staring at Akarui as if entranced, though abhorrence showed in his eyes.

"Anna." It was Althemen who finally spoke, his sharp voice cutting through the silence. "He said that he left something for you to have. I suggest you retrieve it so that we can leave."

Anna lowered her hands and stared at Althemen in disgust.

"I couldn't do anything," Luseik murmured, still staring at his hands. "I couldn't do anything."

"None of you even tried to do anything!" Anna shouted at the rest of them.

Satiyen stepped forward. "Anna--"

"You all just watched him die! You didn't even try to stop Luseik!"

Althemen snarled. "It wouldn't have done any good if we had!" he snapped.

"And how the hell do you know?" Anna retorted, her eyes still red.

"Because," Althemen hissed, "he told me that he was going to die regardless. A prophecy made when he was young is coming to a close. Part of what sustained the prophecy was a curse that kept Akarui from ever dying… And when the prophecy is completed, so too would Akarui's curse. And he would die. Better that he die knowing full well what is happening than dropping dead with no warning."

Anna stared at him. "He told you this?"

"Before he died, yes."

"And you believed him?"

"A man wouldn't make up something like that in his last moments."

Anna didn't say anything for a long time. Finally, Althemen repeated himself.

"He left you something."

Anna stood up wordlessly, without looking at anyone, and left the room. She returned seconds later holding a small blackwood box. "Let's go," she muttered without emotion.

---

_The Winds over Dachrea_

The Black coach flashed invisibly over the Hybrid Realm, sustained by Luseik's power, as the occupants inside it each pondered over their own thoughts.

"Why?" Anna whispered. Satiyen, sitting next to her, glanced over.

"Is something wrong, Anna?" he said softly.

"Why would he do something like that?"

Satiyen turned his body to face her and tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

"Althemen told me what Akarui told him. But if that was all that happened, why would Akarui feel compelled to do what he did? The dragon's claw… Why would he need to? Nothing in the prophecy said anything about anything he had to do…"

Satiyen didn't understand. He hadn't heard anything from Althemen, and certainly not from Akarui himself.

Anna growled. "It doesn't make any sense! Everything is wrong! Versiver is supposed to be the good guy!"

Satiyen was alarmed now. The occupants of the coach were looking at Anna now. Frustrated, she shot Althemen a look and explained what Akarui had told Althemen, and in turn, Althemen had told her, about Versiver's meddling, the prophecy, all of it.

"But Versiver is supposed to be the good guy… Akarui was supposed to be the bad guy. But everything's wrong and now there's all this other stuff that wasn't important before, and now it is!"

She seemed about to cry again. Luseik didn't move to comfort her, so Satiyen leaned over and embraced her, murmuring into her ear that everything would turn out all right.

"It won't," Anna said. "Nothing ever turns out 'all right' in the real world."

Satiyen didn't respond.

Luseik wasn't watching them. He had been staring at the floor of the coach ever since Anna had mentioned Versiver.

_That_ was almost too much to comprehend. Versiver had once been human? And just how old was Luseik's enigmatic father, anyway?

Versiver had the gift of nullification. Another fact no one had been informed of until now--but if he had been the first, he must have passed it on. So did that mean Anna was a descendant of Versiver? It didn't mean she was closely related to Luseik. If Versiver was as old as Akarui said, Anna and Luseik could be thousands of generations apart from each other. But what disturbed Luseik was the question of why Anna had the gift, and Versiver had the gift, but Luseik himself didn't.

Or did he? Perhaps, like the Blood Jewels themselves, the gift manifested itself at varying levels of intensity. He created a small ball of witchfire and concentrated on it. Without cutting off the power that sustained it, he focused on the fire. _Go out._ Nothing happened. _Go out._ The flame continued to burn. _Go out!_ Was it Luseik's imagination, or had it flickered? _Go out! I need you to go out… If I can't do this, then I'm wrong… And I can't be wrong right now. **Go out!**_ The flame sputtered out. Luseik stared at the empty air for at least a full minute. The coach began to shudder as his concentration faded, and he hastily corrected their path.

_He had the gift._ Obviously, it was so weak as to be useless, but he had it. Which meant it _was_ natural to draghans, and Anna _was_ a descendant of Versiver. Which meant Althemen had originally been a draghan. Which meant that their friend Althemen still had a lot of things he wasn't telling them…

---

_Althemen's Youth_

_Dachrea_

Althemen scratched at his back. The scars that would never fade had begun to itch again. Sometimes he feared they would drive him insane. The mere memories of his wings could well be enough to push him into the Twisted Kingdom.

But at least the memories of being a slave were behind him. Menteur had saved him from that Hell. No longer was he degraded daily, tortured with his every breath.

And soon he would be a rubis. Even those centuries-old-scars would fade. But did he really want them to fade? Did he want to abolish the only reminder of his former glory, of when he'd had his wings?

Damn it all. And Tesora… She had rejected him… Could he take all of this without breaking? How could she not want him in the first place? She'd been born a slave, and Menteur had saved her as he'd saved Althemen. Althemen had fallen for her within a month of meeting her, but she denied his advances and rejected his attentions. Why? _Why?_ He was willing to give her anything she wanted in order to please her, and yet it seemed all she wanted him to give her was solitude.

He couldn't keep pressing. She'd already made it clear she didn't want him. So what now?

Well, Alnevar had been different lately. Did that mean anything? Althemen couldn't place it, but…

Another presence in the room. Speak of the devil. Althemen turned to see Alnevar grinning at him.

"Scared?" Alnevar said, still grinning.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, come off it. Word's already gotten around that Menteur's going to do a little experiment on you. So? You scared?"

"Please," Althemen muttered. "I trust Menteur's judgment."

"Yeah, yeah," Alnevar said wryly, "you'd trust his judgment if he told you to descend to the Black, or try to ride a Black Wind."

Althemen snorted. "Alnevar, you're a real pain in the ass, you know that?"

"That's my job," Alnevar laughed. He left the room chuckling to himself. Althemen leaned back and stared at the ceiling. Maybe things weren't perfect. Maybe Althemen didn't have everything he wanted.

But wasn't it better than being a slave?

Life was good.

---

_Today_

_The Winds over Dachrea_

Althemen stared out of the ornamental window into the Darkness, one hand holding up his head, the other in his pocket, fingering the two Ebon-Gray shards he'd acquired in Akarui's castle.

_"Scared?"_

That had been Alnevar's greeting, the day before Althemen had been made into a rubis. Three days before They'd found out about Alnevar's little secrets. His love affair with Tesora… And the other one. He'd lost Althemen's friendship until now with the love affair, but what had turned even Menteur against him…

_Yeah, I'm scared. Now more than ever. I haven't spoken with my lord Menteur in ages. And now we're heading right into Versiver's clutches. And worst of all, Alnevar still hasn't remembered anything. He has no idea what we are heading into._

---

_Northern Dachrea_

"Alnevar is still with them."

"Please forgive me, my lord, but I am finding it hard to complete my task. Althemen grows more and more watchful by the minute. I am trying to get around him, but it is difficult. If I were to dispose of the newborn rubis now, Althemen would surely be seconds behind, ready to attack me. I don't mean to make excuses, though, my lord. Alnevar will be dead before any problems arise. No one has yet realized I'm… not exactly who they think I am. Not even Versiver himself, and of that I am positive."

"I'm sure he will. Because if he isn't, _you_ will suffer the consequences."

"I understand, Lord Kennesval."

"See that you do, Keskes."


	2. Chapter 2: First Night in Dhemlan, I

The Fourth Realm 2:

--Prophecy of Old--

A fanfic taking place in the Realms of the Blood, created by

Anne Bishop whom I worship and pay tribute to every day.

Just kidding. Or so you think.

(Written by the Great and Powerful Keski,

spell checked by Microsoft Works Word Processor)

---

Chapter II

First Night in Dhemlan, Part I

(An Extended Episode, because I just couldn't stop typing!)

---

_Dhemlan Dachrea_

Luseik, Anna, Althemen, Alnevar, Keski, and Satiyen all stood before Versiver's castle. It was nothing like Akarui's; whereas the other had seemingly been built to last, this castle seemed to be built entirely for show. It was the most _dramatic_ castle Anna, Althemen, and Alnevar had ever seen. It was jet black, the entire thing, and stretched up into the sky to what seemed an impossible height. There were no edges on the top of the castle, from what they could see; it seemed the top of the castle was entirely formed out of spires, gargoyles (Alnevar shuddered to see these), and stained glass windows.

The castle wasn't even made out of any conventional substance. It was smooth, almost glassy to the touch, and gleamed, practically shone with the starlight above. The doors were huge blackwood double doors and had jet doorknockers hanging from them, almost too high to reach, even for the nearly-seven-foot tall Luseik. Not that he needed to use them; a mere gesture from him and the doors swung open, the gesture dramatically performed despite the fact that all Luseik truly needed in order to open the doors was a mere thought. They entered the castle.

"You may all entertain yourself as you please," Luseik said as they entered. "I must take Anna to see my father. There is a library to the left of the main doors, and a study to the right. At the end of the corridor are the kitchens, if any of you would like something to eat."

They all stared at him.

"Or," he muttered, "you could all follow me."

There was a general murmur of agreement.

---

"This is your Queen?"

Luseik nodded. "We were accosted upon our return by a dragon named Oebr who required a service of us, and we were obliged to aid him. It would not have taken me so long otherwise, Father."

"You needn't be so formal, Luseik," Versiver said. "You are among family and friends, after all."

"Sorry," Luseik said, shrugging.

"I see you brought all of your… friends." Versiver sounded slightly irritated. Luseik saw out of the corner of his eye as Althemen shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"I offered them use of the library and study, and the services of the kitchens, but they declined."

"I see," Versiver said. "Well, I have seen your Queen and I can tell she is the one I sent you to find." He turned to face Anna, smiled warmly, and bowed deeply. "Lady Anna, I am Lord Versiver, Luseik's father, as you have no doubt already deduced. My Queen, Lady Kennesra, is not present at the moment, but I assure you, you will have a chance to make her acquaintance before you leave for Ebon Askavi. In her absence, I offer up to you the full services of my castle and all of its inhabitants. If you require, or desire, anything, you need only to ask and it will be provided."

Anna didn't know how to respond. She wasn't use to hearing or using all this, as she called it, court-talk. "I offer my…er… humble… thanks… Lord Versiver," she said finally.

Lord Versiver seemed amused. "My son may decline to speak casually in my presence, milady, but if it pleases you, feel free to speak as you normally would."

"Er, that is to say, thank you, sir," Anna said.

Lord Versiver bowed deeply again. "It is my pleasure to offer what services I can to the future Queen of Ebon Askavi."

Anna shrugged. "It's… not that important of a title, is it?"

Versiver chuckled. "For some, it would be merely a title, but for others, the title would be license to abuse the power that couples with it. I should hope you will be able to avoid being the latter."

Anna smiled, almost certain she had understood that. "Don't worry, I'm not going to be like Dorothea SaDiablo, if that's what you're thinking."

Versiver raised an eyebrow. Luseik broke in.

"Dorothea SaDiablo is the name of the Queen to whom Anna was enslaved to in Terreille," he said.

"Ah, yes," Versiver said, bowing his head. "I… had forgotten the Lady Anna's background. I can assure you, Lady, your background in Terreille will not influence the way you are treated here in Dachrea."

"Yeah," Anna said. "I kind of hoped that would be the case. Not that I'm too keen on being Queen of a Territory, especially one as… er… prominent… as Ebon Askavi."

"You needn't worry, my dear," Versiver said. "It is not as difficult a task as it may seen, especially with a consort such as my son. I assume you will be taking your friends and present family members into your court as well?"

"Yeah," Anna said. "I've thought about that a bit. Luseik… well, that's self explanatory. Satiyen will be the Master of the Guard. Keski, Althemen, and Alnevar will be in the First Circle. I… don't know anyone else, but I… Well, I kind of assumed there would be more people…"

"There will most certainly be others to choose from for your court, Lady Anna," Versiver crooned.

Luseik cleared his throat. "I think my Queen has been kept long enough," he said with forced politeness, "and would appreciate rest now."

Versiver smiled and laughed quietly. "I apologize. I did not mean to keep the future Queen of Ebon Askavi from her bed. But again, Lady Anna, feel free to make full use of all the accommodations my castle has to offer. My son can show you around if you desire. I think I shall retire as well, as it is late. I bid thee good evening, Lady Anna," he said, and bowed deeply one more time before gracefully leaving the room.

"Sorry," Luseik said stiffly once his father had left. "He's a bit overbearing."

"He didn't seem that bad," Anna said tentatively, "but… something about him was a little creepy. No offense."

"None taken. But he was right; it is late, and I think we should all be getting to bed."

Again, there was a general murmur of agreement. On a Yellow thread that everyone in the room caught, Luseik said, (Manuel, we have returned, as I'm sure you already know. I'd be much obliged if you'd show my Queen to her chambers while I show the rest of them to theirs.)

(Be right there, sir,) said a young boy's voice with a hint of a Glacian accent.

"Technically he's a servant," Luseik said, "but he's a nice kid, and the role he plays here falls closer to lapdog than anything else." He grinned. Anna smiled. "He'll show you to your room, and I'll be there as soon as I've shown everyone else to theirs. Sound good?"

Anna nodded. "Yeah. Don't get mad if I'm asleep when you show up, though."

Luseik laughed. "All right, I won't." He turned to the rest of them. "All right, everybody out that door, let's move, come on kids, it's bedtime." He herded everyone out the main door to the room and followed them. Shortly after, through the door, came a boy of perhaps fourteen years with the signature silver hair of Glacia, cut short and left in whatever form it had been when he'd woken up.

"Hi, are you Anna? Or, Lady Anna?" Anna smiled at the way he corrected himself at the last minute, but without any real remorse. She'd been worried people would be all subservient when she came here, and _that_ she wouldn't tolerate.

"You're Manuel, I assume? Yeah, I'm Anna," she said. "Just Anna."

They both grinned at each other. Then, igniting curiosity in Anna, he said: "I was afraid you'd be like Lei--_er_, I mean, Lei-ets get moving," He laughed weakly.

"Lei?" Anna said curiously, unwilling to drop the subject.

"Um," Manuel said. "Leirasha. I used to serve her… It, uh… It wasn't much fun."

Anna frowned. "Sorry I asked. I didn't know."

"Don't feel sorry for me," he said hastily. "Well, I'd better show you to your room, yeah?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yeah."

He beckoned for her to follow him and then turned and left the room. She trailed along behind him through one hallway, down another, up a flight of stairs, down three more corridors, up another staircase, down a short hallway and up a spiral staircase, and down another hallway before they came, finally, to a blackwood single door, elegantly but simply carved with a floral design in the wood.

"Right here," Manuel said. Anna was breathing heavily, but smiled and nodded.

"Thanks," she breathed. Manuel pushed open the door and led her inside. There was a main chamber in the center with a massive four poster canopy bed hung with crimson curtains. The bed had a black comforter and red sheets.

"There's all the, uh, things you might need in here. There's a bathroom through that door there, and I think Luseik's got a little library through that other door there," Manuel said.

"Thank you," Anna said, still holding onto her side. "I'll just explore a little, and I'm sure I'll find everything. Thank you very much, Manuel."

The boy smiled. "It weren't nothing at all, ma'am," he said, and promptly left the room.

Anna immediately headed for the bed, although the allure of a nice, hot bath was maddening.

Maybe when she woke up.

---

Luseik indicated the two doors. "This wing only has two free rooms," he said, "which shouldn't be a problem. Satiyen and Keski, and Althemen and Alnevar, can each share a room."

Althemen grunted.

"Is there a problem?" Luseik said without sarcasm.

Alnevar spoke up for him. "There's still a lot of… er… animosity between us," he said weakly.

"You don't want to share a room."

They both nodded.

"Hell's fire! All you're doing is sleeping. You don't have to talk, or bond, or anything!"

Althemen scowled.

"Fine," Luseik muttered. "Althemen and Satiyen, Alnevar and Keski."

Althemen wordlessly stalked into one of the rooms. Alnevar looked at Luseik and shrugged. "I've kind of gotten over it," he said. "It's just Althemen's had a long time to hate me and not very much time to get over it."

"Yeah," Luseik said. "Well, I'm going up to see Anna now. Get some sleep, or by the Darkness, tomorrow you'll wish you had. We'll have a lot to do tomorrow."

---

Althemen sat at the window, brooding as he stared out at the night sky.

"What's the deal with you and Alnevar?" Satiyen said as he sat down in an armchair near the door. Althemen slowly turned his head to face the wehr.

"Must I explain?" he said quietly.

"Don't wish to offend," Satiyen said automatically, "just want to know why you two hate each other so much. If it's none of my business, you just have to say so."

Althemen turned back to the window and exhaled for a few seconds.

"It's a long story."

"Like I said, if it's none of my business, all you have to do is tell me that much. Otherwise, I'd like to know."

"Fine, then," Althemen murmured. "It started a long time ago. I'm around twenty thousand years old, and this happened as I neared my hundredth year. Althemen and I worked together, and a woman named Tes…" he broke off and closed his eyes. He pressed his hand to his temple. Satiyen thought he would hear hissed curse words from Althemen.

Instead, he heard a sharp intake of breath, a shuddering exhalation, and then Althemen let his hand down again.

"A woman named Tesora came to work with us." It seemed like he was being deliberately vague, but Satiyen listened quietly.

"She was… She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. I became infatuated with her the first time I met her, and in the coming weeks I came to truly love her. I thought she felt the same way about me. In retrospect, I don't think she ever noticed the nature of my feelings for her until that night… Oh, Mother Night…" His voice was growing quieter as he spoke. Satiyen carefully lifted his chair and set it down across from Althemen. He sat down silently and cocked his head attentively.

"Althemen?" he said quietly when it seemed Althemen wasn't going to continue.

"I asked her out to dinner and proposed to her," Althemen murmured. "She declined and she left in tears. It was later that I found out the reason."

Satiyen listened in rapt silence.

"She was in love with Alnevar. Even he hadn't known how I felt about her. And they had both been… Well, Hell's fire, I don't know if they were ashamed of it, or what, but they'd hidden it and never let it show in public. Alnevar and I had been best friends back then, and he couldn't even tell _me_ that he was seeing Tesora. Damn it, every time I think about it…"

Satiyen shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He hadn't known it would hurt Althemen to remember, although perhaps he might have guessed.

"I don't understand," Althemen whispered. "I've never… never understood…" He was shaking slightly. "How… How could he… do that to me… How could either of them…? It wasn't fair…"

Althemen started to cry silently. Satiyen didn't want to watch this any longer. He'd caused it, and he'd feel guilty if he didn't solve it. He got out of his seat and knelt before Althemen, putting one of his wehr claws on each of Althemen's shoulders.

"Althemen," he said firmly, "look at me."

Althemen didn't respond. Satiyen gave him a gentle shake. The man looked up at Satiyen.

The wehr was shaken as he looked into Althemen's eyes. All the anger inside, all of the aggression inside, all of it was falling to pieces underneath the shell of anger and aggression, and when all of it was gone from the inside, the outside would crumble and there would be this helpless little man, no longer protected by his habits of always pushing people away, no longer protected by all the aggression he counted on to be able to evoke fear in others.

And what would happen to Althemen when that finally happened?

---

"Calm down, Althemen," he heard Satiyen say softly. The quality of the wehr's voice was such that the words came out low and quiet, the natural vibrato of his voice lending an almost purring quality to them. The overall effect was very relaxing, but it didn't affect Althemen much. On the contrary, Althemen was thrown into another torrent of tears and he leant forward, unable to stop himself, and clutched at Satiyen's fur as he buried his face in the wehr's soft chest, as if hoping Satiyen's fur might soak up some of his misery as well as his tears, and perhaps take it away from him.

He sensed that he was making the wehr uncomfortable, but he couldn't make himself release his grasp on Satiyen's fur, couldn't make the tears stop. He hadn't cried in… how long had it been? He'd been miserable, angry, hateful, for years, yes, but he hadn't let anything show since…

That night, at the restaurant. Hell's fire, it had been a while.

The simplest thoughts, the smallest memories, the basest concepts, they all did their part to contribute to the fact that Althemen could not quiet himself, could not stop himself from humiliating himself.

And to his surprise, he felt astonishingly comforted when Satiyen tentatively laid both arms across his back and held him while he cried out all of the pain, anger, regret, hate, sorrow, rage, and misery that had raged inside him for twenty thousand years.

But all of it seemed to die down, to suppress itself, when he felt Satiyen lean his head forward and whisper in Althemen's ear: "It's all right, Althemen. Cry. Just let it out."

And that's when the storm truly broke.

All his life, Althemen had been driven by the need to protect. The need to protect the secrets of the past from those around him. The need to protect his daughter. The need to protect his own hostile image. But none of that mattered now. It all was dwarfed in the face of this new feeling; that right now, instead of Althemen looking out for anything or anyone else, he felt like someone was finally protecting him.

Some small, unimportant part of him raged against it, told him he was being ridiculous, that he must stand up straight right now, that he must relinquish his hold on the wehr immediately; but the emotions had finally become too much for him to hide, and Satiyen's fur was so warm and soft and Hell's fire, he just felt so _safe_ here. No fear of anything.

And that was what it was all about, wasn't it? All it came down to was the fear. The _fear_ that something would happen to Anna. The _fear_ that Alnevar would remember what had happened, would hate Althemen even more. The _fear_ that his own image would collapse, as it was even now, though he didn't care. The _fear_ that somehow, something would always go wrong, something would always fail to turn out the way it should. All the fear had dissipated.

And after it was taken away, all that was left was the constant, undeniable, gnawing, and ultimately defeating despair. If so much had already gone wrong, what more was in store for him? Would he be able to take it? Or would he eventually fall into the Twisted Kingdom?

_Fear._

He clutched Satiyen's fur tighter with the mere thought. "I don't want to," he sobbed, his voice muffled by Satiyen's fur. "I can't. I can't go there."

"You don't have to go anywhere," Satiyen said soothingly. Again that voice. Althemen quieted. "You can stay right here as long as you want."

"I will," Althemen murmured between the subdued, diminished sobs. He felt like a small child, but it didn't matter right now. "I want to stay here…"

"Then we'll stay here," Satiyen responded.

"Yes," Althemen murmured. "Stay here. I'm tired… So tired…"

And it seemed everything faded, and he fell unconscious right where he was.


	3. Chapter 3

-1The Fourth Realm 2:

--Prophecy of Old--

A fanfic taking place in the Realms of the Blood, created by

Anne Bishop whom I worship and pay tribute to every day.

Just kidding. Or so you think.

(Written by the Great and Powerful Keski,

spell checked by Microsoft Works Word Processor)

---

Chapter III

Recall, Part One

---

_Dhemlan Dachrea_

_Versiver's Castle_

Alnevar scratched at his head, thinking deeply on something, but not letting on just what it was. Keski milled about the room, playing idly with the natural shadows.

"I just don't get it," Alnevar muttered finally.

"Huh?" Keski looked up from the little shadow he had been toying with.

"He still hates me. He despises me. What could I have done to cause that? He doesn't hate me for killing Tesora, that much is clear to me now. I would understand if that was it, but... it's not. Somehow I can tell. Why does he hate me so _much?_"

Keski answered the question with one of his own. "You have amnesia, right?"

"Yeah."

"And he knows why?"

"Obviously."

"So just ask him."

Alnevar didn't say anything for a long time. "I don't think it will be that easy," he murmured finally.

"Well, that's what I have to tell you," Keski said with a shrug, and returned to his game with the shadows.

Alnevar cursed under his breath and gazed out the window for a few moments. "Keski," he said finally.

"Yeah?" Keski said, again looking up.

"This castle's safe, right? That is to say, I won't be attacked by a bunch of gargoyles if I take a quick flight around the castle?"

Keski snorted. "Not likely. Security's pretty tight, but aside from that, not many people would dare attack someone so close to Lord Versiver."

Alnevar grunted and approached the window. He fiddled with a latch for a moment and flipped it open. "I'll be back in a little while," he muttered, and leapt out into the night sky.

Not bothering to spread his wings just yet, he let himself dive straight downward. And he fell.

_He was falling._

---

_He was falling._

_The Liar had hit him. He wasn't able to strike back, or he would truly be punished. What had he done that was so wrong?_

_**What was he doing?**_

---

Alnevar opened his eyes and snapped his wings to their full span immediately. He was mere feet away from the ground when he began to drift upwards, his heart racing.

_He'd been falling, unconscious._

How in the name of Hell had that happened? He had blacked out immediately after emerging from the window, only to wake up moments before becoming a splatter on the ground outside the castle. He flew upwards, past his window, into the clouds that blanketed the night sky. Mere seconds after he'd begun to fly from the base of the castle itself, he had rocketed past the spires that topped it, plunged into the clouds above, and finally, he shot out of the cloud and into the clear night sky above. The air was thin up here. His breathing quickened, and not because of the adrenaline rush the speed had given him.

But how had he lost consciousness? Why?

And what were these images he seemed to remember? A faint pain… He couldn't recall anything else, though he tried.

He swooped through the night sky above the clouds for a long time, perhaps a full hour, before he gave to gliding along above the clouds and staring up at the half moon.

_The half moon._

---

_The half moon._

_It was all he could see. His head lolled back and his eyes wouldn't seem to close. The moon. It seemed the moon was blinding him with its light. And the pain, the pure pain coursing through his very veins at this moment, it was nothing compared to what he knew would happen soon._

_The Liar would find out about this. The Eyrien hadn't been able to stop himself, and the Liar would find out and he would be punished again._

_The half moon was blinding him._

---

For the second time, Alnevar awakened, panicked, and barely saved himself a gruesome death. He slowed his descent and landed gently on the ground, holding his hand in his hands.

"Damn it," he murmured. "Damn it, I'm going to get myself killed. I need some sleep, or something." He glanced around. "Straight back to the castle," he muttered, "and no detours. I might not wake up next time." He cast about for a familiar psychic scent and caught Luseik's to his left. He launched himself into the air and raced in that direction as fast as he could, keeping to a low altitude, but he didn't have another blackout in all the time it took him to get back.

---

Alnevar dropped soundlessly through the window. It must be nearly midnight by now. The bed in the room had two pillows, and Keski was curled up, sleeping, on one of them. Alnevar pursed his lips and rubbed his head.

_What's going on? Are these hallucinations? Or are they memories?_

(They are whatever you choose to call them. Remnants of a past life.)

Alnevar sat down in the chair. He might have gotten worked up in another situation, but it was a voice on a personal thread, and it wasn't hurting him. Besides, he was tired.

(Well, my past life is going to wind up ending this one if it doesn't stop trying to make me remember it,) he sent back along the same thread.

(You will be fine,) the voice responded. It was female. It had a matronly ring to it, but a subtle charm that lent it an interesting tone. (If you like, we could discuss your amnesia--and it's current status--personally. I think you might like to hear what I have to say on the matter.)

(Sure,) Alnevar muttered. (I had assumed it was because I was tired, but if that's not the case, I'd love to know what's up with my head.)

The voice was amused. (Then, by all means, please return to the room in which you were introduced to my husband earlier today. I will be waiting.)

Alnevar was struck with a sudden silence. (Kennesra?) But the link was broken, and he couldn't seem to forge another. He got up and left the room.

---

Keski watched Alnevar leave the room. "And just where is he going, I wonder?" he murmured to himself as the Eyrien exited. Slithering through the shadows, keeping himself carefully shielded from sight and detection with his Black Jewels, he followed.

---

"And the young rubis makes his appearance," the woman said. She was, in a word, beautiful, so much so that she struck Alnevar speechless the moment he laid eyes on her. She was tall, and though not muscular in any sense, her image evoked one word in Alnevar's mind--strong. At a glance, even with her thin arms, she seemed a woman capable of bare-handed murder. His eyes continued to drink up her dark glory. Her dress was of a new style. It was black with a slight purple tint, as per the current fashion, and hugged her legs. It showed off the shape of her legs by making itself visible, through the simple way it had of drinking in any light nearby and reflecting it at least threefold in an almost hypnotic glimmer. The portion of the dress that covered her upper body was also purplish black, and was made of the same material, and obviously, it had the same gleaming effect. The neckline was neither high nor low, giving her neither a conservative appearance nor a seductive one. The sleeves reached about to her elbows and ended in delicate white ruffles. Her elaborately cut Black Jewel hung about her neck from intricately woven silver threads--no, they weren't threads, though they looked for all the Realms like threads. They were extremely fine chains, though exactly how Alnevar knew he couldn't have said. Her black hair was done up in a bun behind her head, in a style long abandoned by the Blood. Something about it, though, instead of making her seem reserved and mature, lent her aura even more beauty, which was strange, because Alnevar usually found long, flowing hair to be more attractive. Her face was pale but not unattractively so, slightly long, and not round at all, a trait which Alnevar found to be rather unappealing in women. Her eyes were visible from where Alnevar stood in the doorway, but it was impossible to tell exactly what color they were. They were distinct and clear, but something about them prevented Alnevar from properly identifying their color. He spent a full ten seconds staring into her eyes from where he stood in the doorway before he remembered himself and stepped in. The door closed behind him.

"I'm pleased that you decided to take me up on my offer," Kennesra said. Those twelve words alone told volumes about her. They were spoken softly, and it seemed that was how she normally spoke. The obvious quality of her voice was that of a small girl, rather high pitched. But the accent in which she spoke, one which hinted that she had grown up speaking the Old Tongue, abolished all preconceptions of immaturity from the listener's mind. Any further impressions were suspended when she spoke again.

"Alnevar, you came to learn what happened to you, and why you are suddenly remembering things, correct?"

Alnevar nodded.

"I must admit I have been helping your remembrance along, although your friend, Althemen, triggered it by telling you the basics of why your memory was altered to begin with."

It still felt strange to have Althemen referred to as his 'friend' and not his 'brother' but Althemen nodded again. "I could see that happening."

Kennesra closed her eyes. "And you would like to know why Althemen hates you so."

"Yes."

"I'm afraid I can't tell you everything, but I can certainly tell you a great deal. I can tell you why Althemen hates you. And I can tell you secrets about yourself that you are not presently aware of. But there is one thing I cannot tell you. I cannot tell you why your Lord Menteur abandoned you in the Pureblood Realms." She said this last with genuine regret. "And for this I am truly sorry, Alnevar."

"That's more than enough," Alnevar said, not giving much thought to the mention of the familiar name Menteur. Who was that? And why, in Alnevar's mind, was Menteur somehow connected to the other figure he suddenly remembered from the blackouts--The Liar. Somehow they were connected, Menteur and the Liar. But how? "And thank you."

She smiled. "Come here." And she turned around. "I have things I must show you." Kennesra began to walk toward a door in the far wall. Alnevar hurried after her.

---

"What is this place?" Alnevar breathed. They walked among shelves and shelves of dusty glass spheres and bowls. It didn't look like anything Alnevar had ever seen, and he kept his wings carefully folded to avoid breaking anything.

"These are the archives," she said. "And you needn't fear for breaking anything. They are each individually shielded and are perfectly safe." She turned her head to look over her shoulder at him. "Organizing them, though, after someone knocks a large amount off the shelves--now _that's_ a living Hell."

"How are these archives?" he asked, amazed at everything he saw, though every sphere looked like all the rest, every bowl just like all the others.

"I shall show you when we return this way. For now, though, these will not serve our purpose." They came to a small metal door and Kennesra tapped the doorknob once (Alnevar sensed the dispelling of a Black-Lock) before opening it.

Beyond the door, Alnevar saw once they had both entered, was a small room. There was just enough space to comfortably fit maybe five people and still leave them enough room to move freely. With two of them, there was no problem. In the center of the room sat what looked, to Alnevar, like a witch's cauldron, the kind not used in centuries, and then only by Black Widows and Healers.

It became clear that this was not a thing to be used for concoctions and potions when Kennesra stood by it and laid both hands--Alnevar saw that her nails were painted (or was that paint at all?) a delicate silver color--on the rim of the cauldron and a silver smoke to match her nails came pouring over the edge. It didn't seem to be smoke, though. It didn't have the right qualities, even simply by appearance. It looked like a silvery substance consisting of nothing more than light, or perhaps it would be more prudent to go a step further and simply say energy had come overflowing out of the cauldron.

"Wait," Kennesra said. "I am going to show you my memories. It will convey your history more clearly than words. The aura will soon fill the room and you will see what you need to see."

Alnevar was a bit apprehensive, but she seemed friendly enough. She was a beautiful woman, in every sense of the word. The dress she wore only accentuated her natural beauty. It wouldn't have mattered had she worn rags and smeared dirt on her face.

Pity she was Versiver's wife.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Alnevar knew he had gone too far, even in mere thought. But before his thoughts could be taken any further, he saw that the aura of silvery mist had reached the level of his nose. He braced himself and took a deep breath. The room faded.

---

When he could see again, he was surprised. He'd expected this to have the quality of a dream, but it was perfectly realistic, save that everything had a slightly fuzzy quality. Well, if Kennesra was to be believed, these were old memories, not entirely reliable. He looked about himself. It was as if he stood in the environment, though he knew it wasn't possible.

He was in a corridor, completely devoid of human life. Where were the people? Anything living?

Shadows of people, hints of voices, images, all of it faded in slowly, and before Alnevar knew what was happening, there were people walking through the hallway.

Kennesra stood before him. She was younger, though not much, by appearance. She hadn't aged much physically in the years since this had happened, that much was clear.

Kennesra opened a door in the corridor and entered through it. Alnevar followed her. He easily passed through the door that she had already closed, into a room that made him stop dead in his tracks.

Alnevar saw himself, strapped to a reclined chair. Kennesra stood before a--thing. The creature seemed to be some sort of spider hybrid, with a vaguely human upper body, but at least eight black, insectoid legs. His arms were also characterized by the same gleaming black trait as the rest of him. Kennesra was talking with it. It had a distinct accent and poor mastery of the language, but the meaning was conveyed. Alnevar could tell this was an old memory. The dialogue was lost, but the meaning of it all was clear enough. Kennesra could remember the event, just not the specifics. Kennesra was appealing to the thing--a kjeran, somehow, Alnevar knew--not to do whatever it was planning to do to Alnevar. The creature--a scientist. Alnevar finally drew that conclusion from the white coat it was wearing. The creature was under orders from Menteur--again, that name!-- and could not disobey. And besides, Alnevar had brought it on himself. And if Kennesra knew what was good for her, she should leave here too.

Kennesra didn't belong here. Alnevar got that distinct impression. This was Menteur's territory, it seemed, and she was not 'on Menteur's side' as it might be put simply. Once, she had been… But no more. She glared at the scientist and hissed a curse word in the Old Tongue at him. Alnevar didn't know the language, but the quality of the memory conveyed the meaning; she'd called him something along the lines of useless, but the terminology she had used had it obscene.

It seemed strange to refer to anything Kennesra did as obscene.

She stormed out of the room and the memory faded.

Alnevar found himself standing in an empty room once more. It was a generic room, the purpose not evident simply by being here. Then Kennesra appeared, standing against the wall, sobbing into her hands.

Versiver entered and saw her, hurried to stand before her, to ask what was the matter. She rejected his concern, stormed out.

The brief scene ended and it faded away.

Into another environment Alnevar found himself fading until he stood in a dimly lit room.

This memory was different. It had taken place before all the others. It was crystal clear, unlike the others, which had been faded. The colors were distinct, the room easy to see.

Alnevar froze and his eyes widened when the people entered the image.

Kennesra stood by the wall, her arms around a man--not Versiver--and the two were passionately kissing. This was no courtesy kiss, that was painfully obvious.

The man was an Eyrien.

Alnevar narrowed his eyes and stepped closer. When the kiss ended, the man pulled back and they spoke.

Kennesra was married to Versiver at the time. The concepts were conveyed smoothly to Alnevar through the memory. Kennesra was married to Versiver, and knew that this man was not her husband, yet they kissed anyway. Who was the man? Alnevar had a sinking suspicion, but needed to confirm it.

They continued to speak. The man felt guilt, and fear, over what he was doing with Kennesra, but couldn't resist her regardless.

The man started to turn around, ready to leave, but before Alnevar could see his face, the scene vanished and Alnevar felt a distinct twisting sensation of pain in his mind before he was in the cauldron room again, staggering backward to fall against the wall. Kennesra was staring at him in horror.

"What did you see?" she asked in her usual voice.

Alnevar didn't respond. When she spoke next it was nearly a shriek. "What did you see!"

"I don't know! You--you were kissing someone."

"Did you see who it was? Did you see--him?"

"No. No, I didn't," Alnevar gasped, holding his head.

No one said anything for several moments. The aura faded.

"You saw what I wanted you to see," she said, "but I did not mean to show you the last image. I would prefer if you forgot it, Alnevar."

He nodded. "Yes, sure," he said. "I--yeah. Okay. But what was all that about in the first place--the other memories?"

"Now that you've seen the memories," she said, "I can tell you the story."


End file.
